


Holding Out

by BPforShort



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Chapter 10E, Gen, Innes Under Siege, Light At the End Of the Tunnel, Not that important anyway, One-sided Innes/Eirika, Reciprocity ambiguous on purpose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8376541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BPforShort/pseuds/BPforShort
Summary: After being ambushed and cornered in Carcino, Innes has accepted that he will die here and has devoted himself to holding out for as long as he can- not for delusions of surviving and escaping, but to buy the others as much time as he can by distracting these enemies.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was unable to work both prompts into today’s fic, so consider this work to be for the prompt ‘Hope’ during FE8Week. This was honestly the first idea to come to my mind for this prompt, and while I’ve had to take some liberties with the chapter’s script, I’m kind of happy with how this turned out, but very sorry that it's a day late.

The number of soldiers that Carcino’s council had sent after them was surreal. In a way, Innes supposed he should be proud. The council considered him and his two hired hands to be dangerous enough that they had to be subdued urgently, and strong enough that it had to be done by a veritable army. Any semblance of pride and amusement was however quickly dispelled by his realism. Much as he hated to concede that Ephraim was his superior, he couldn’t do what the prince of Renais had done- overcome an entire detachment of trained enemy soldiers with a handful of loyal warriors of his own.

They could not hold out, and they had long expended the strength they would have needed to break through and escape. It was a matter of time before they would collapse and be overwhelmed.  Still, Innes refused to give up. If there was one good thing he could say about this situation, it was this: Carcino must have sent its _entire_ military force after him. Or at least the vast majority of it. Every man they killed, or occupied, here, was a man that could not be sent after Ephraim in Grado or Eirika in Rausten. _For Eirika,_ he kept telling himself as he loosed arrows into the seemingly never-ending mass of enemy soldiers. Every shot found its mark in an enemy throat or heart, to his relief. He had never doubted his own ability with a bow, of course, but exhaustion and despair did strange things to a man’s arms and eyes.

It was in the darkness of night that he and his mercenary guards finally got time to breathe. Carcino’s men knew they had a massive advantage, and took the night to rest- a luxury Innes could not afford himself. Gerik had suggested they use the night to break out, but Innes doubted that the enemy commanders would be foolish enough to leave unguarded holes in their formation that they could use. Instead, they used the night to gather around a fire of their own, Gerik keeping a well-trained ear out for approaching enemies as Tethys and Innes tried to rest.

Innes took this time to inspect his bowstring, frowning more deeply than usual as he decided it needed replacing. He removed the current string and produced a new one from his pack- the last spare he’d brought. Normally, it wouldn’t have to be replaced as often as he had been doing, but he feared the almost continuous use had worn them out far more quickly than he was comfortable with. Besides, stringing and re-stringing the bow gave him a way to busy his hands during the night. Kept him from falling asleep during his watch.

Gerik watched in silence as Innes worked, and it was Tethys who finally spoke. “So… how are you boys doing for supplies?” Innes glanced at her, muscle memory guiding his hands as he looked away from his bow. “I’ve got an elixir and a couple of vulneraries left,” she clarified, “But those won’t do us any good if your weapons are in poor condition. Especially you, Chief.”

“I admit I’ve been banging on them a little harder than I probably should have,” Gerik said, shrugging. “I’ve already had to loot my current sword from a corpse. It’s the right weight, but I dunno how much longer it’ll last for.” He turned to Innes. “Call for a change in tactics, perhaps?”

“You suggest that I take the lead, and you serve as my shield?” Innes immediately formulated, barely needing to think about it. Although uncommon, it was not unheard of for archers to carry a battle while specialized meleeists stuck to their sides and defended them whenever an enemy did break through the rain of arrows and threatened the archers. “Normally, it would be a valid strategy,” he admitted. “And I would be happy to use it. However…” He reached to his side, punctuating his words by raising his quiver for the others to see. “I only have about a hundred arrows left.”

“A hundred, huh.” Gerik laid back, but the expression on his face before it vanished from Innes’s view betrayed that he was anything but relaxed. “Sounds like tomorrow’s gonna be our last stand, then. Unless those reinforcements you sent for arrive.”

“That is more than unlikely.” Innes had sent a group of Pegasus riders –the last ones of their company following an ambush heavily crewed with ballistae- into different directions. One towards Jehanna, to complete his mission for him, when he realized that he would die here in Carcino. One towards the port in Renais, to warn Eirika of what was happening in Carcino and urge her to hurry to Rausten. And one, the oldest and most experienced of the three, to Grado, to find Ephraim and inform him of Innes’s demise so that he could adapt his strategy to the permanent absence of the grey-haired sniper if necessary. In addition, all three had firm instructions to not return to his side upon completion of their mission, and instead fly to Frelia to inform King Hayden. Frelia’s king loved both his children dearly and would not take kindly to Carcino executing Innes. The prince grinned smugly to himself as he imagined the country and the council being overtaken by endless waves of Pegasus Knights and heavily armoured spearmen.

However, that was only if everything were to proceed according to plan, and Innes knew well that no plan survived contact with the enemy. “It’s been too recent that our messengers left,” he explained to his mercenaries. “At most, one of them might have reached Eirika by now. And that is provided none of them were shot and killed on their way. We can expect no aid from Frelia. Not in time.”

“Best come to terms with it, huh?” Gerik said, sighing. Innes nodded. If he really tried, he might be able to get Tethys and Gerik to be released or only imprisoned. Himself, though? He was the prince of Frelia, and a high-profile, open enemy of Grado’s military and government. He would be executed either on the spot or during a large public ceremony. Made into an example. Having known that for the past few days, he had long accepted it. His only regret was that he had never had, or taken, the opportunity to tell Eirika how he felt.

It was an odd regret to have, he supposed. He could have added it to the message he’d sent her regarding the situation he was in, but that would have added another person who knew. Innes was a private person; these feelings were something between him and Eirika, no one else. And yet, that mentality coupled with what he supposed was cowardice, made that now he would die never having told her. So be it. At least it meant she wouldn’t be burdened with the sentiments of a dead man later.

He woke at the first rays of dawn, wasting no time in slinging his quiver around his waist. “There’s a small mountain fort just a little further,” he told the other two. “We can make our stand there.” His mind raced. If he ran out of arrows, he would be useless. With a ballista, he could give their assaulters pause, perhaps even level the field a little, but thinking he could get one was wishful thinking at best. Which was something he was hardly accustomed to. Funny, how realizing one’s mortality made the mind go to strange places. He would have no choice but to be conservative with his shots. Every arrow had to result in a kill.

Hours later, he looked at a half-empty quiver with the knowledge that every arrow he had fired _had_ resulted in a kill. The same was true for any swing Gerik had made with his looted sword. They had reached the fort and blocked the only entrance with a sturdy barricade from behind which the two men could pick their targets. It had helped make every shot and strike count. Behind them, Tethys danced until she stumbled, her steps curiously keeping Gerik and Innes refreshed enough that every time the prince pulled back the bowstring, it was as if it was the first time that day and the mercenary’s swings never lost their strength.

On occasion, mostly whenever there was a brief lull in the assault, she would peek out of the fort’s tower, take stock of the surroundings, and report back. After one such check, she came back with more spring in her step than she had left with. “Your Highness?” she asked, “If, hypothetically speaking, your messenger reached Princess Eirika and she decided to come to our aid, what direction do you think she’d come from?”

“As of this exact moment? North,” he immediately replied. It was the obvious way to come from, but Eirika would have had no time to circle around the battlefield. She was no strategist, and the knight serving as her right hand and advisor was known to excel in head-on assaults. Actually, Innes thought, having the Silver Knight on this battlefield would help immensely, even if he hadn’t been likely to bring an elite squad with him. For a moment, the prince allowed himself to hope that Eirika would arrive. As he thought it, he loosed an arrow, lodging it firmly in a throat and turning back to Tethys. “Why do you ask?”

“You may want to see for yourself,” she said, leading him up the tower and towards a certain window. “Here. Look towards that tall mountain there. You can’t miss them.” Innes looked, and his heart leapt. There, approaching over the mountain path, was a small group of well-armed warriors. His trained eyes could not make out a banner, so he couldn’t be certain. But he could have sworn their leader was a woman with blue hair, flanked by a knight with red hair and a silver lance in hand.

His mind raced. They didn’t have the resources to break out of their fort and rendezvous with Eirika’s group- Eirika would have to come to them, but she didn’t know where they were exactly. Fortunately, Innes had been prepared for this eventuality. He wasted no time grabbing his pack and rushing further up the stairs, hoping to reach the fortress’s roof. He emerged into the cold air, free from the scent of blood at this height, and knelt to reach into his pack and pull out a single arrow he had been saving for this very reason. It was quite heavy, but he had faith in his heavy bow to launch it as high as any other. And besides, it didn’t have to fly true or inflict damage. Attached to its shaft was a small packet of herbal and mineral substances- the exact details, Innes didn’t know. What he did know was that upon firing the arrow, the string he was attaching to it and his bow would snap, allowing two key components to mix and set the arrow aflame on its way into the sky. Even in the light of day, it would alert Eirika to their location.

He didn’t stay around to watch the spectacle, rushing back downstairs immediately after shooting. “About time you got back, Prince!” Gerik shouted, “I was starting to wonder if you preferred death by falling from the tower to holding out here!”

“Never,” Innes said, taking another arrow to hand and scanning the mess in front of him for a situation that required his attention. “I had to alert Eirika to our presence. She’s coming.”

“Sweet.” If Gerik doubted his words, thought he had lost his mind with despair, or believed him, Innes could not tell. It mattered little, anyway. The mercenary knew well that any straw of hope, no matter how small, could give them just the boost they needed to last a little longer. To kill one more foe.

Innes had long shot his final arrow when he heard the thunderous stomping of hooves on the ground outside, indicating that either Carcino had suddenly found a cavalry division or Eirika’s group had reached him. The battle cries that followed, as well as the panic amongst their enemies upon hearing it, told him enough. “It’s Eirika,” he said, nodding to Gerik and Tethys. “She’s here.”

He had half a mind to chew the princess of Renais out- for ignoring his instructions, for jeopardizing her mission, for running headlong into a battle that could very well get her killed and rob Magvel of her beauty and kindness. But as he saw her, approaching the fort with a slender blade in one hand and throwing her hair over her shoulder with the other –why she refused to put it up or at least tie it in battle would forever be beyond Innes- all strength to scold her left him.

“Eirika,” was all he managed when she reached him. Her gaze was shocked, and he supposed he must have looked as terrible as he suddenly realized he felt. Days of sleeping poorly, eating little, and fighting almost without end had finally taken their toll on him. He felt his legs give out and his hand lose its grip on his bow. He was relieved to see Eirika drop her own weapon and hold out her hands to catch him when he pitched forward, his eyes closing and his consciousness fading as he forced his throat to choke out two more words.

“Thank… you.”


End file.
